I don’t know about you, but some days I just don’t care.
I don’t want to be real today,
I am more comfortable with the charades of life.
Pretending is easier than being real, why is it so?
Do I even know who the real me is anymore,
I thought I used to,
but now I am not so sure.
The real me wants to live on a beach,
listen to the waves carry all my cares out to sea,
But this is not reality, at least not one with purpose.
I want to live on purpose,
but not everyday,
some days I just want to be left
Today I don’t want to be real, and that is me being real,
thus the paradox of reality.